


I Can't Decide (Whether You Should Live Or Die)

by LostyK



Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Assassins & Hitmen, Alternate Universe - Human, Assassin Janus, Assassin Remus, Attempted Murder, Enemies to Friends, Enemies to Lovers, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-03
Updated: 2021-03-03
Packaged: 2021-03-15 05:40:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,078
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29184183
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LostyK/pseuds/LostyK
Summary: Deceit is one of the best assassins in the business. So assassinating Thomas Sanders should not be difficult - except Thomas seems to have the amazing ability to happen to escape from death.And the longer it takes Deceit to kill Thomas, the less sure he is that he even wants to.
Relationships: Deceit | Janus Sanders/Thomas Sanders
Comments: 36
Kudos: 41
Collections: TSS Fanworks Collective





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Happy Birthday Janus!! 
> 
> This fic is complete as a first draft, I plan to update weekly as I edit chapters. 
> 
> Warnings in the end notes!

Thomas Sanders is going to die.

There is a folder on the table with his name on it. Deceit picks it up and flips through it – Thomas’ address, family history, information about his housemate, a man named Virgil Storm, and details of Thomas’ career on Vine and YouTube. He’ll do his own research later, and find out everything there is to know about the man. For now, he just needs to understand the job itself.

“The deadline is one week,” says his handler, a woman that is all sharp angles. Her hair is tied back into a tight bun, and she dresses like she’s on her way to a board meeting.

To her face, everyone calls her ma’am, but most of the Agency also call her _The Dragon_. She encourages this nickname by never killing someone over it.

“Whatever will I do with the other six days,” Deceit muses.

The Dragon doesn’t respond, which is probably better than what anyone else would face. Then again, she always has been fond of Deceit, ever since he was a kid.

“I’ll take it,” Deceit says, though that is a given.

The Dragon nods and leaves the room. Deceit flips back through the file – Thomas Sanders is a former Vine star turned YouTuber, he lives with a reclusive man named Virgil Storm, and he will be easy to kill.

It will be a subtle death, because if she wants something loud, the Dragon goes to the Duke. An accident, most likely, something very tragic. However he’ll end up doing it, Thomas Sanders’ fate is sealed.

*

Deceit looks Thomas up on the flight over, and watches some of his videos. He finds them funny enough. Thomas seems wholesome enough on them, but someone wants him dead.

He doesn’t have a safehouse in Thomas’ town, but he does know a hotel where people don’t ask too many questions, so he checks in there. He stays only long enough to put away his luggage – a single, carry on suitcase – and then goes to find Thomas’ house.

It’s a nice enough house on a nice enough street – the lawns are well kept, and he sees some of the neighbours talking to each other. There is only one car parked in Thomas’ drive, and from the file Deceit knows it’s Thomas’. There’s no visible alarm on the outside, and a number of windows that might make for easy access. He slips into the neighbour’s yard, and spots a backdoor to Thomas’ house.

There’s a house being renovated down the street from Thomas – for now, it looks empty. When Deceit breaks in, he finds a balcony that has a good view of Thomas’ house.

He spends the next day learning more about Thomas – he stakes out his house, and is able to follow Thomas to the nearest Starbucks around noon. From talking to people, he learns that this is the only real routine Thomas seems to have. He doesn’t see Storm at all that day, and from what he finds out, that isn’t unusual.

Thomas, they say, seems nice enough – if someone says hello to him, he’ll say hello back, even though none of his neighbours are exactly friends with him. Storm, on the other hand, they rarely see. And when they _do_ see him, he usually keeps to himself, and is always wearing a pair of headphones.

The next day, Deceit shows up for his shift at Starbucks armed with a baggie of ground up peanuts, and the knowledge of Thomas’ medical history – including his serious peanut allergy. He’s there to fill in for a barrister that has come down with a _terrible_ case of food poisoning. Really, she should have known better than to eat shrimp that he’s tampered with.

When Thomas arrives, the café is packed. Deceit gets handed a cup with Thomas’ name on it, and sets about making his venti iced vanilla Americano. It’s not the first time Deceit has works at a Starbucks as part of a mission; he has become very good at making drinks quickly, and even better at slipping crumbled peanuts into them when no one is looking.

Thomas is idling near the counter, today dressed in a leather jacket and sunglasses that he is still wearing indoors. Deceit catches his eye and holds out the drink.

“Thanks gurl,” Thomas says as he is given the drink, a far cry from how he speaks in his videos. He takes a swing and pulls a face. “Hey, uh, I think you got my order wrong?”

Deceit fixes a smile on his face. Based on the hospital report from the last time Thomas had a reaction, it won’t take much to kill him. A single swig might be enough.

“Oh, I’m so sorry,” he says.

Thomas turns the drink around and squints at the cup. “Yeah, this isn’t mine,” he says, pointing at where _Thomas_ is written in loose handwriting. “My name is Remy?”

What.

Thomas – _another_ Thomas comes up to the counter. “Oh, hey, I think that was mine?” he says.

“Right,” Deceit says. “My apologies. Let me remake that for you.”

“I’ll do it,” Kate, another barrister working with him, says. “I need you to get more cups from the back.”

 _Kate_ could easily do that, but Ethan Gold, Starbuck barrister, wouldn’t argue. So he just says, “Of course,” and walks away from the counter, while Thomas’ drink is made correctly.

By the time he gets out, Thomas is leaving, talking on the phone as he goes.

“So we’ll meet at your place at noon? Cool, I’ll see you there. Bye, Lee.”

*

Lee and his wife, Mary Lee lives a ten minutes’ drive away from Thomas. Seeing then seems to be so important to Thomas, that Deceit will do what he can to make sure Thomas gets to it as fast as possible.

So, when it’s late enough that the lights in Thomas’ house has gone off, and he’s certain the neighbours view of Thomas’ drive will be blocked by the fence, he crawls under Thomas’ car and cuts the breaks.

The house renovation makes a very good place to watch Thomas drive off from, so the next day that’s where he is. He perches beside a pile of bricks, close enough to the glass balcony door to see out of it, but where he’s not likely to be spotted. Usually, he would stay at the hotel and wait for the news, but Deceit isn’t willing to take any chances with Thomas Sanders.

Except the minutes tick by, and Thomas’ car doesn’t move. Thomas had _said_ around noon, but it is half twelve now, and the car is still there. He wonders if Thomas decided to walk, or if he caught the bus instead, when he sees someone leave Thomas’ house.

Deceit goes to the balcony that overlooks the street to get a better look, and sure enough, it _is_ Thomas, not Virgil Storm. Deceit watches him walk towards the car – he’ll only watch long enough for Thomas to drive off, there’s no way of telling when an accident will happen, after all – and right passed it, and onto the street.

Oh, you have to be _kidding_ him. Thomas seems completely unconcerned as he walks closer to Deceit’s hiding place, and part of him wants to go down there and demand to know what Thomas is doing.

With a snarl of frustration, Deceit grabs one of the bricks and _hurls_ it at the pavement where Thomas is – or rather, at the pavement a few inches to the left of where Thomas is. Thomas jumps where the brick hits the asphalt, and Deceit ducks back inside the house so he won’t be seen.

 _That_ was an extremely stupid move – Deceit had thought he’d grown past fits of rage, but apparently not. Still, when he peers out again Thomas is gone, so perhaps he’ll chalk it to another accident.

Deceit, however, is done with accidents.

*

Breaking into Thomas’ house is easy – all Deceit needs to do is pick the locks on his door and disable the burglar alarms. _Honestly_ – anyone could just walk in. Maybe he’ll leave Virgil recommendations for some _decent_ security.

Deceit barely spares a glance to Thomas’ kitchen and living room before making his way up the stairs. It’s late – almost three am, and the whole house is in darkness.

Upstairs, there are three doors opening off the corridor. The one in the middle is slightly ajar, and Deceit can see that it’s a bathroom. Another door leads to a room at the front of the house – from being able to see through the windows, he knows this is Thomas’. The third door must lead to Virgil’s room – through the crack at the bottom, he can see the glow of lights on inside.

Deceit opens Thomas’ door slowly, taking care not to make any noise, and when it is open just wide enough for Deceit to fit, he slips in, and shuts the door behind him.

Thomas is sat on his bed, his headphones on and his laptop in front of him. The glow of the screen lights up the moment Thomas looks up and sees him, the way Thomas’ eyes widen in shock and fear.

Deceit is already moving before Thomas begins to open his mouth to scream, and so he is able to tackle Thomas onto the bed and cover his mouth with a hand before any sound can come out. Damn it, Thomas is supposed to be _asleep_. Who the hell is up at three am?

Thomas struggles, hands clawing at Deceit’s own, and legs kicking wildly. He manages to catch his laptop and send it flying off the bed. It hits the floor with a loud thud. Deceit pushes himself onto the bed, and uses his knees to pin Thomas’ legs in place.

He’d been planning to use a pillow to smother him, but fortunately he also has a knife with him. Thomas is still scratching at Deceits hand, so he can use the other one to pull out the knife. Behind him, something pounds across the floor, and there’s the sound of a door hitting a wall when it’s thrown open.

Deceit is able to turn his head just in time to see the vase coming towards him.

The impact sends him falling pack against the bed, dazed.

“What the fuck!?” Virgil shouts, at the same time as Thomas cries, “You killed him!”

Deceit tries to get his hands under him, tries to push himself up, when Storm says, “Oh, fuck that,” and something collides with his head again, this time sending him careening into darkness.

*

The ropes are the first thing he notices.

He keeps his eyes closed, keeps his breathing slow and even, and listens to the footsteps pacing around the room. This isn’t the first time he’s been caught during a mission – it’s happened twice before. The first time had been easy enough to escape and finish the job, but the second had taken him days. When he finally had escaped, he’d almost bled out before he reached the safe house.

This time will almost certainly end up like the first.

“Shouldn’t he be awake by now?” someone asks. “Shit, I think I gave him brain damage.”

“He’s probably fine,” says a second voice. “I’m sure he’ll wake up soon.”

“Great!” hisses the first voice. “That means he’s going to wake up and kill us!”

…Definitely like the first.

It would, admittedly, be easiest to pretend to be asleep until one or both of them left the room. That would give him a chance to get out of the chair, kill Thomas, and then decide if he wants to kill Virgil, too.

But no one has ever caused him this much trouble before, not even the people who were _expecting_ him. He’s curious.

So he makes a show of groaning and raising his head, of waking up slowly. He tugs against his restraints, more for show than everything, though it does give him a chance to make not of the amount of give in them. Rope is woven around his chest and arms, and then more has been used to secure his wrists.

Virgil is at the edge of the room, arms crossed and glowering. Thomas stands between Virgil and Deceit, eyes wide, looking as if he hadn’t actually expected Deceit to wake up.

“Uh, hi,” Thomas says. “Sorry about the tying you to a chair thing, but in our defence, you did try to kill us.”

Deceit doesn’t reply. He’s able to twist his hands to loosen the rope slightly.

Thomas falters. “How’s your head?”

“Fine.”

“Are you sure?” Thomas asks. “Virgil hit you pretty hard. We could get you some ice for it?”

Deceit isn’t sure why Thomas is asking that, but he still nods. He’s curious about what Thomas is going to do now that he thinks Deceit is at his mercy.

“Right! Yeah, I can get that,” Thomas says. He turns to Virgil, who’s scowl somehow grows even darker.

“Fuck no,” Virgil snaps. “I’m not taking my eyes off him.”

“Fine,” Thomas says. “I’ll get it. Just- stay here?”

And then Thomas _leaves the room._ He must be either stupider than Deceit realised, or far more cunning than Deceit was prepared for.

If Deceit is going to be hurt, this is where it will happen, while it’s just him and Virgil. Then Thomas can deny knowing about it, can build up Deceit’s trust in him.

Virgil stays where he is, watching Deceit so intently he doesn’t seem to blink.

“Have you called the police?” Deceit asks.

Virgil jumps at Deceit’s voice; unsurprising, considering how tightly wound he is. “Of course we did,” he snaps. “We’re just waiting for them to get here.”

Meaning there’s a time limit on how long he has to escape.

“What the fuck were you doing, anyway?” Virgil asks.

“I thought that was obvious,” Deceit says. “I’m trying to kill Thomas.”

“Why would you want to kill _Thomas_?”

Virgil sounds like the idea honestly makes no sense to him. Deceit just shrugs.

Virgil mutters something under his breath but doesn’t speak again, apparently content to just watch in silence. Or not content, considering the look on his face. It isn’t long before Deceit can hear Thomas’ footsteps up the stairs, and then Thomas appears, carrying an ice pack in one hand and a glass of water in the other.

“Jesus Christ,” Virgil mutters, eyeing the water.

Thomas shrugs sheepishly. “I thought he might be thirsty?”

“He just tried to kill you!” Virgil snaps. “You don’t worry about whether the person who tried to kill you is thirsty!”

If someone speaks like that at the Agency, it’s usually a good sign that violence is on the way, and you should start apologising before it’s too late. Thomas doesn’t seem bothered, though.

“Do you want it?” he asks.

Deceit shakes his head. He’s not _stupid_ , there’s no way he’s going to accept anything from someone he’s just tried to murder. He might as well eat arsenic – it would cut out the middle man.

“Okay,” Thomas says. He steps closer. “Uh, I’m not sure how the ice pack will work. Maybe we can put it between your head and your shoulder?”

Deceit nods, and lets Thomas come closer, closer still. He places the water on the ground, and then reaches with the ice pack, and Deceit launches himself off the chair.

He keeps hold of the ropes as he tackles Thomas to the floor. He stands up quickly, and then turns to Virgil. As he suspected, Virgil is already lunging for Deceit’s knife, now placed on the night stand. He’s able to get there first, and he hits Virgil in the face. Virgil staggers back, and Deceit uses the distraction to throw him to the floor.

Virgil snarls and tries to stand up, but Deceit pins him and loops the rope around his hands. He drags Virgil across the room and ties the rest of the rope to the leg of the desk.

“Stop,” Thomas shouts, and suddenly he’s there, right next to Deceit, the guy who’s trying to _kill_ him. “Don’t hurt him, please.”

Deceit turns, and Thomas backs away a few paces until his back hits the wall. His eyes are shiny with fear.

“We won’t tell anyone who you are, I swear,” Thomas babbles.

Deceit takes a step closer to Thomas. Behind him, Virgil spits, “Don’t you fucking _dare_.” Deceit can hear him struggling against the rope.

Thomas is here, in front of him, and alone. There’s nothing stopping Deceit, no lucky escapes this time. All Deceit has to do is grab the knife and stab him, or strangle him, or bludgeon him with something.

But he doesn’t want to.

A hundred kills and this one makes him hesitate, because – what? Because of an ice pack and a glass of water that is probably drugged? Because he’s seen some of Thomas’ vines and they made him laugh?

Deceit doesn’t hesitate. The training he’s had since he was a child has seen to that.

Something is wrong. He needs to regroup, figure out what’s happened and how to change it.

“Stay here,” Deceit orders, and Thomas nods. He doesn’t look relieved, not yet. “If you try to follow me, I’ll kill you. And then I’ll come back and kill him, too.”

Thomas’ breath hitches and he nods again. Behind him, Virgil goes silent. Neither speak as Deceit leaves the room.

When he’s halfway across the living room he hears movement upstairs, and stills, but then there’s nothing except for hushed voices from above, speaking too quiet for Deceit to hear.

He doesn’t look back as he leaves the house. He’ll kill Thomas tomorrow.


	2. Chapter 2

Deceit scowls down at his coffee.

He’s in the Starbucks, trying to regroup after last night’s disaster, while also avoiding the glances from the baristas. Who’s Ethan Gold? He’s Dante Ekans, a man who has never worked at Starbucks in his life.

It’s close to noon, and he’s not sure if Thomas will show up today. So this is, ostensibly, a recon mission; he’s observing Thomas’ schedule to see if it’s changed.

The shop door opens. Deceit catches a glimpse of the familiar jacket before quickly turning his head away. He can still watch out of the corner of his eye as Thomas lines up at the counter. Trying to kill Thomas with coffee had been a good idea. It wouldn’t work now, of course, since Thomas would recognise him if he tried to be a barista.

Maybe Thomas would take his eyes of his drink for a moment. Deceit could dream.

The chair across from his is pulled out, and Thomas sit down in front of him, no drink in his hand.

“Uh, hey,” Thomas says.

“Thomas,” Deceit greets. He pushes his drink across the table. “Care to try it?”

Thomas pulls a face. “Is it poisoned?”

Deceit just smiles, and Thomas gingerly pushes the drink back to the centre of the table.

“Uh, no thanks,” he says. “So, uh, you’re an assassin? How’s that going?”

“Considering you’re still alive, not great.”

“Right.” Thomas falters, clearly uncertain as to what to say. Deceit decides to take pity on him.

“Do you make a habit of talking to everyone who tries to kill you?” Deceit asks.

“Surprisingly, you’re the first person who’s tried,” Thomas says, with a small smile that implies that he’s _joking_. He hesitates, face growing serious again, and then asks, “Why _are_ you trying to kill me?”

“I’m an assassin,” Deceit repeats. “I kill people for money.”

Thomas goes pale. “So someone _else_ is paying you to _kill me_? Why?”

Deceit shrugs. When it comes to the agency, he doesn’t ask questions.

Thomas leans back and runs his hands through his hair. “Okay, that’s – pretty fucking terrifying. I make _YouTube videos_ , why would somebody want me dead?”

“Take it as a compliment,” Deceit advised. “It means someone is thinking about you.”

“Okay, that’s actually not comforting _at all_.”

Well, in his defence, no one has ever expected Deceit to be comforting. Deceit picks up his drink and finishes it, making eye contact with Thomas the whole time. Thomas shakes his head, but there’s a hint of a smile on his face.

Deceit stands up. “The coffee here is mostly safe to drink,” he tells Thomas. “Though avoid getting it from the girl with pink hair.”

Thomas pulls a face, and Deceit sweeps out of the coffee shop. It’s too conspicuous for any murder attempts to take place there at the moment. He’ll just have to kill Thomas tomorrow.

*

The next day, Thomas goes grocery shopping.

Deceit knows this because he follows him. It’s a surprisingly dangerous place, Walmart; _anything_ could happen to you there. Not that Deceit is actually _planning_ for anything to happen to Thomas. He’s found making plans in general unusually difficult lately.

But, well, if the opportunity arises…

Deceit ducks into the pasta aisle before Thomas can see him, and pretends to inspect the fussili. It’s a very interesting pasta, after all.

After waiting a couple of minute for Thomas to move on, Deceit turns to leave back up the aisle. Unfortunately Thomas, as it turns out, has not actually moved very far, because he’s coming _down_ the pasta aisle. Both of them freeze, and then Thomas lifts a hand and waves.

Deceit strolls over, trying to look as if he’d known Thomas would be here the whole time.

“Hey, Mr Assassin Man,” Thomas says. He frowns. “Huh, I just realised that I don’t know your name.”

“Call me Deceit.”

“You know what, sure,” Thomas says. “So, uh, are you going to kill me?”

“It’s not like it’s my job or anything,” Deceit says, and Thomas tenses, hands tightening around the shopping cart. “Oh, wonderful idea, I should _absolutely_ murder you in the middle of Walmart, where anyone could see. You really are a natural at this, Thomas.”

“Alright, alright,” Thomas says, rolling his eyes. “But if you’re not planning on killing me, why are you here?”

“Why, I’d have thought that was obvious. I’m _lurking_ , of course.”

“Lurking, huh?” Thomas actually looks amused.

“And scheming, but don’t tell anyone.”

“Wow, you’re a multitasker,” Thomas says. “Did they teach you that in assassin school?”

Deceit very much does not flinch or tense at that, because that would be a sign of weakness. Thomas’ face just falls for a _completely unrelated reason_. Most people in the agency know about Deceit’s childhood – they all went through some form of the same training, after all, even if Deceit started younger. Some of them even remember him as a child.

So no one had ever _asked_ about his past- not _Deceit_ , anyway. They might ask Ethan, the barista, or Dante, the charming business man, and Deceit had stories prepared for all of them. No one had ever wanted to know more about Deceit, though.

“Sorry,” Thomas said. “Shitty joke?”

“Actually, I was top in my class at lurking,” Deceit says, as if nothing had happened, and Thomas actually looks _relieved_.

“Guess it’s an important skill to know,” Thomas says.

Deceit hums in agreement. Thomas grabs a couple of packs and pasta and throws them into the cart, and begins to move down the aisle. Deceit follows without thinking about it. It just feels natural.

The next two aisles pass mostly in silence, other than when Deceit tells Thomas to get a different brand of cheese (it’s far better than the one Thomas was reaching for), or when Thomas makes a pun bad enough that Deceit groans and cover his face with one hand (which has the bonus effect of hiding his laughter). In the snacks aisle, Thomas goads Deceit into buy a pack of fruit roll-ups for himself.

“Hey,” Thomas says when they’re in line for the checkout. “It’s just me you want to kill, right?”

“For now,” Deceit says. “I’m hardly old enough to retire after this.”

“That’s not what I meant. Though it’d be good if you _did_ \- never mind. What about Virgil?”

“What about him?” Deceit asks.

“He saw you,” Thomas points out. “What are you doing to do to him?”

Deceit hesitates. It wouldn’t be a hard decision, ordinarily. Virgil either has to die, or else be framed for Thomas’ death, so that anything he might have to say will be dismissed as the desperate attempts of a murderer to avoid justice. Killing him is the easiest option – while Deceit prefers to avoid collateral damage, there are times when it’s necessary.

“I haven’t decided yet,” Deceit admits, because while it _shouldn’t_ be a hard decision, it is.

He can imagine Thomas’ reaction to hearing his thoughts. The way Thomas would go pale and scared, how he’d look at Deceit as if Deceit was the monster lurking in the darkness. How he’d start begging for Virgil’s life again.

It doesn’t matter how Thomas feels about any of this, since Thomas will be dead in a few days anyway.

They reach the front of the line, then, and so can’t say anything else. Thomas pays for the fruit roll-ups before Deceit can even try to pay for them himself.

“See you tomorrow?” Thomas asks with a smile as they walk towards the exit, only half joking. Deceit nods.

He’ll just have to kill Thomas then.

*

The crew working on the house renovation near Thomas’ house received a convenient call reporting a gas leak, and so work on it had to be put on hold until further notice. It means that Deceit has an excellent place to go to while figuring out how he’s going to kill Thomas.

Perhaps he could tamper with Thomas’ stove so it blows up the next time he tries to cook with it – except, no, he’s seen inside Thomas’ kitchen. There’s no way Thomas and Virgil actually ever use it. Also, he’d need to figure out a way to get Virgil out of the house for it to happen.

“Deceit?” Someone calls from downstairs.

Deceit creeps down to the first floor. The house is shadowed from the lack of power, and he’s familiar enough with it to be able to move around unseen, even though it’s daytime. Thomas is in the entry way, holding two takeout cups from Starbucks. Thomas slips out a side window, and then circles round to the front of the house, so that he’s standing behind Thomas.

“Yes?” he asks, and Thomas jumps and spins round, splashing coffee over his hands.

Thomas curses, and almost drops the coffee, so Deceit darts forward and grabs the cups. Thomas shakes his hand through the air.

“Thanks,” Thomas says. “Actually, no, no thanks. That was your fault! Why did you do that?”

“It’s important to stay alert,” Deceit replies. “Especially when there are assassin’s after you.”

“There’s only _one_ assassin after me, and apparently his preferred method is giving me a heart attack,” Thomas mutters. He wipes his hand on his shirt and then takes on of the cups. When Deceit offers him the other one, he shakes his head. “That one’s yours. Promise it isn’t poisoned.”

Deceit raises an eyebrow and takes a sip. Caramel frappe, nice. “Actually, I have been slowly taking poisons my entire life to develop an immunity.”

“I have no idea if you’re kidding or not.”

That’s how Deceit likes it. He leads the way upstairs, and Thomas follows without hesitation. Deceit leads them to the balcony. Thomas sits down on the floor, and Deceit does so too.

“What are you doing here?” Deceit asks.

Thomas holds up the coffee cup in answer.

“I meant at this house,” Deceit corrects.

Thomas laughs. “Funny story. I wanted to get you coffee, then realised I don’t know where to find you. Anyway, I remembered the time a brick almost fell on me, and, well, I made a guess.”

“By wandering into an abandoned building?” Deceit _tsks_. “Come one, Thomas, surely you have a better sense of self-preservation than _that_.”

“Well, I’m having coffee with the guy that wants to kill me, so apparently not,” Thomas jokes.

Thomas lifts the cup to his mouth and drinks. Deceit watches the way his lips press against the rim, then quickly looks back down at his own cup. They’re sitting close together; if Deceit moves wrong they might brush against each other by accident.

“Did you know,” Deceit says, running a finger around the rim of his cup, “That I tried to kill you with coffee once?”

“You did?” Thomas asks. “I didn’t catch that one.”

“It was my first attempt,” Deceit says. “I put peanuts in it.”

Thomas pulls a face. “That- would probably do it, yep. How come it didn’t work?”

“It appears you have a doppelganger?”

“That time my order got mixed up?” Thomas guesses, and Deceit nods. Thomas snorts. “Wait, you gave the poisoned coffee to the wrong guy?”

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

“You’re the one who brought it up!”

“Not. Talking about it.”

“Alright, fine.” Thomas raises his hands in surrender, laughing. “How many times _did_ you try, anyway?”

“Three – no, four,” Deceit says. “You should probably get your car looked at, by the way.”

“Noted,” Thomas says, grimacing. “And I very much do _not_ want to know, by the way.”

“Noted,” Deceit echoes, smiling.

He lets his attention drift to the street below them. Two women are walking down it, hand in hand. On the side closest to the house, a teenager walks by, staring down at his phone. Deceit wonders if Thomas knows them, if he waves to them when he sees them. Whether they will notice when Thomas is gone.

“Hey, Deceit?” Thomas asks, and when Deceit looks over, he’s staring down at his lap, fingers tapping against the side of his cup. “Can I ask a favour?”

“What is it?” Deceit asks cautiously.

“When you, uh, when you kill me,” Thomas starts, voice going unsteady. “Could you- let Virgil go, maybe?”

Deceit looks away. Something in his chest is twisting uncomfortably at this conversation.

“Virgil’s a good guy,” Thomas continues. “And- whatever I’ve done to piss someone off so much, it has nothing to do with him.”

“I’ll consider it,” Deceit says, the closest thing to a promise that he can give.

Thomas swipes at his eyes. Deceit stares at the floor; he can offer Thomas this much privacy, at least.

“So,” Thomas says, still with a slight tremor in his voice. “Do you watch Avatar?”

Deceit hasn’t, which leads Thomas to explain all the many reason why Deceit really _should_ watch Avatar. This then leads to an argument over what the best cartoon is (Deceit is greatly disadvantaged, as he only has knowledge of the cartoons he saw before the age), and Thomas explains in great detail the intricacies of Gravity Falls.

Deceit will just have to kill Thomas tomorrow.

*

Except, as it turns out, tomorrow isn’t soon enough.

Deceit’s phone – the one that belong to him, not any of his aliases – rings only once before he answers. He knows the importance of a prompt response.

“Deceit,” the Dragon says the moment he picks up. “What is the issue?”

“There is no issue,” Deceit answers. He considers saying something else, but the Dragon speaks first.

“It’s been a week, and Thomas Sanders is still alive. What is the reason for this delay?”

Deceit goes still, even though the Dragon can’t see him through the phone. He’d know, of course, that he has a job to do, that he’s on a time limit. And yet, he’d still allowed himself to forget, just for a few minutes. If the Dragon suspects the real cause – that Thomas knows about Deceit and yet is still alive, that Deceit has been _fraternising_ with him – then Deceit will be punished, will be brought back in line, and Thomas will be killed.

Killed by an assassin who doesn’t care about him, who might even _enjoy_ killing, enjoy the feeling of having someone at the mercy. Who might want to make it _last_.

And if Virgil tries to stop them, or even if he just _sees_ , he’ll be killed as well, even though Thomas asked Deceit to let Virgil do.

He’s barely aware of answering the Dragon, or travelling across town, but somehow he ends up in front of Thomas’ house anyway. He lets himself in through the back again – the locks have been changed, but they haven’t been changed _well_.

Someone is on the sofa and Deceit freezes until he is sure they are asleep. It’s Virgil, with his laptop open in front of him, the screen gone dark. As Deceit passes, he can see how exhausted Virgil look; Deceit can imagine he’s been staying up since the night of the break in.

He climbs the stairs without making a sound. The lights under both doors are dark, and Deceit slips silently into Thomas’ room. Thomas is sprawled across his bed, asleep. Deceit steps further inside, closing the door behind him softly.

He can smother Thomas with a pillow, the way he’d planned, or slit his throat, or strangle him in his sleep. Could poison the food in the kitchen, or start a fire and make it so that Thomas can’t get out. Instead he says, “Thomas.”

Thomas startles awake, looking around the room frantically.

“Deceit?” he hisses, reaching for the bedside lamp and clicking it on. When the room is lit up, Deceit can see the fear on Thomas’ face.

“What the _fuck_ are you doing?” Deceit snaps.

“What?” Thomas looks bewildered.

“Twenty years,” Deceit says, and he _really_ shouldn’t be talking but he can’t stop. “I’ve done this for twenty years, I’m _good_ at this, one of the best, and yet _somehow_ you keep escaping. Even though I was only given this job because there was _nothing else for me to do_.”

“Deceit,” Thomas says.

“Shut up,” Deceit snaps. “Just- stop talking.”

Thomas falls silent. Deceit paces around the room, one hand pulling at his hair.

“It’s okay.” Thomas’ voice is shaking, his whole _body_ is shaking, and in the dim light of lamp, Deceit can see tears spill down Thomas’ face.

“You have to kill me,” Thomas says. “I get it. I’m not _happy_ about it, but-” he trails off, and then just adds, “It’ll be okay.”

And now Deceit has no excuse, because Thomas if just going to _let him_ , has already convinced himself that is what a good person would do. And Deceit really wishes he could be _proud_ of managing to do that.

But all he can do is stand there, and he realises that he can’t kill Thomas. Realises that he’s know this for a while.

It’s terrifying. Ever since he was nine, Deceit’s life has revolved around his job. Without it, there’s nothing left of him, and to keep it, he needs to kill Thomas.

“Deceit?” Thomas asks, leaning forwards, frowning and looking concerned, and that’s how Deceit realises that he’s shaking, that his lungs don’t seem to be working properly because he can’t _breathe_.

Thomas grabs Deceit’s arm, and Deceit finds himself being pulled down onto the bed.

“Come on,” Thomas says, incredibly gentle. “Breathe in for four, okay? One, two, three, four. Good. Now hold for seven.”

Deceit has seen enough panic attacks to be able to recognise one. He follows Thomas’ instructions until his chest loosen just a little.

“I don’t want to pry or anything,” Thomas says, “But- are you okay?”

Deceit doesn’t have an answer to that. But he’s not going to kill Thomas today, and if he isn’t going to do that, then he shouldn’t be here. He gets to his feet, and stumbles towards the door. A hand tightens around his wrist before he makes it, and when he looks Thomas is there, out of his bed.

“Wait,” Thomas says. “Don’t go. Just-”

Deceit places his hand over Thomas’. Thomas’ eyes are wide, are terrified, which doesn’t make any sense because Deceit is _leaving_.

“My name is Janus,” he says, and then he flicks his wrist, and sends Thomas to the ground.

He flees out of Virgil’s window, so there’s no chance of Thomas catching up to him, and disappears into the night.

He doesn’t plan on coming back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: talk of attempted murder, imagining murdering someone, more references to child abuse


	3. Chapter 3

The agency has safe houses dotted across the country, but it’s only the new members who rely on them. Over time, assassins fain their own network of safe houses and bolt holes; some that belong to them, others that another agent will let them use.

Deceit can’t use any of the agency’s safe houses. He can’t use any belonging to his allies, either, though there were only ever a handful of them. He inherited some of his own safe houses from the Dragon, which leaves only a few that he can go to. Fortunately, one of these is in Florida.

The owner of the building the flat is in gets paid handsomely to not ask too many questions. The other residents believe Deceit is a rich man who spends most of his time travelling the world. There are a number of ways out of the building for if it _does_ get discovered, and it’s located close to the main road out of town.

It’s long past midnight when Deceit arrives, meaning he has officially failed his mission. Officially _abandoned_ his mission, which is worse. If he’d just failed, his reputation would be ruined, and he’d have to fight to repair it, but he’d still be welcomed back.

There’s only one case that he knows of where someone abandoned their mission, when it had turned out the target could pay better than the agency did. Deceit had tracked the agent down in Budapest.

“What the fuck would you know about anything?” she’d snarled at him, back pressed against the wall and bleeding from her side. “You’re brainwashed by the agency!”

He hadn’t taken offence to her insults. Everyone knows that it wasn’t exactly his choice to become what he is today. People wondered why the Dragon had shown up after a mission with a freshly orphaned child, why she’d sunk her time and resources into training him, but everyone agreed that it had _worked_.

It hadn’t been a violent process, the remaking of him, but a gentle one. A band wrapped around his old self, so that as he grew, that part of him died and rotted away. Before long, the only name he’d gone by had been the one the Dragon had given him.

He’d buried the traitor by the side of the road; one last sign of respect that she didn’t deserve. The greatest honour any assassin could have is to go unremembered.

Janus should be dead and gone like she is, but Deceit dug him up when he’d told Thomas his name, and now he’s Deceits own spectre.

He doesn’t even know _why_ he told Thomas that. A name makes no difference when he won’t see Thomas again.

And he _won’t_ see Thomas again. Going back is too risky, it’s the first place the agency will look for him. And Deceit doesn’t know what he’s doing, doesn’t even know what he is anymore, but he knows he doesn’t want the agency to find him, not yet.

A day passes, two, and Deceit stays in the safe house as much as possible. He destroyed his phone after fleeing Thomas’ house, so he buys a new one when he has to stock up on supplies. He could call Thomas – he has Thomas’ number memorised. Then he can tell Thomas that he isn’t going to kill him, and Thomas will know he doesn’t have to even think about Deceit anymore.

He doesn’t call.

And then, on the third day, someone calls him.

Deceit answers it solely out of curiosity. It isn’t hard to recognise the high pitched, nasally voice on the other end.

“Sup, Deedee,” the Duke says. “Heard you fucked up.”

Out of everyone in the agency, Remus is the closest thing Deceit has ever had to a partner. They’re both the best at their job, though they have very different methods, and Deceit is one of the few people who tolerates the Duke’s antics. So when two people are needed for a mission, they end up paired together. And when a job is outside one’s realm of expertise, the other gets called it.

Deceit has been asked to clean up after Remus many times.

“How did you find this number?” Deceit asks.

The Duke laughs. “Figure it out! Unless you’re getting too rusty. Heard you’ve been having trouble getting it up – and by ‘getting it up’ I mean killing people. So now I get to come out to play instead!”

“You’ve been given the Thomas job,” he realises. It’s not much of a surprise; the agency doesn’t leave their targets alive just because one of their members fails.

“Ooh, first name basis. What’d he do, suck your dick? Or did he turn out to have secret ninja training or something?”

“Remus-”

“Sorry, Dee, can’t talk, got a plane to catch. See you when I’m done with him!”

The Duke hangs up before Deceit can say anything. Deceit stares down at the phone. He’d known something like this would happen, he just hadn’t thought about it. He hadn’t _wanted_ to think about it, though that’s hardly an excuse for getting sloppy.

The Duke is going to kill Thomas. That’s without question. He might kill Virgil, too, but that hardly matters, since Deceit isn’t the one doing it. And Thomas knows he’s going to die, has been given time to make peace with it. Deceit has granted him that kindness.

Remus is among the best. Even if Thomas and Virgil get lucky again, they won’t be able to stop him for good. Only an assassin would be able to do that.

Deceit groans and buries his face in his hands. It’s one thing to fail, it’s even one thing to desert. But it’s a completely different thing to turn traitor, and that’s what he’ll be if he tries to intervene. And then he’ll be killed horribly, and Thomas will die as well, and none of it will have mattered.

Is Thomas worth such a pointless, suicidal mission?

Deceit curses, then storms out of his apartment.

*

He finally finds Thomas and Virgil and the mall, between Hot Topic and Pandora. Virgil is on his phone, and Thomas is talking to him. Thomas looks up, spots Deceit coming towards them, and smiles, face relaxing with relief as he raises a hand to wave.

Before Deceit can get there, Virgil is in front of him, putting himself between Deceit and Thomas.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” Virgil snarls. His hands are clenched into fists, but Deceit can still see that he’s shaking.

Clearly, Virgil must have the sense that Thomas is lacking; he’s hostile and suspicious, and Deceit won’t be able to change that any time soon. It would be good to see, if it wasn’t getting in Deceit’s way right now.

“We need to get out of here,” Deceit says to Thomas.

“Yeah, no,” Virgil snaps. “I’m not letting you take Thomas somewhere to murder him.”

“As opposed to murdering him right here?” Deceit asks. “Or when he gets home? You know, for people with assassins after you, you’re not taking many precautions.”

“Deceit, buddy, you’re not really helping your case,” Thomas sighs. Some sense of urgency must show on Deceit’s face, though, because Thomas goes serious and asks, “What’s wrong?”

“You’re in danger,” Deceit says. “Quite possibly very immediate danger.”

“Pretty sure the danger is standing right in front of us,” Virgil mutters.

“The _danger_ is that you’re standing here talking when you should be moving,” Deceit hisses. “Or did you actually think ignoring the problem would make it go away?”

“ _Okay_.” Thomas pushes between them. “Deceit, I am _very_ confused. Could you please just explains what’s going on? And where have you _been_?”

Deceit forces him to take a slow breath in and out. Is helping people always like this? It’s exhausting.

“I’m not the only assassin out there,” Deceit explains. “The Duke is looking for you, and believe me, you do not want him to find you. So we need to leave _now_.”

Thomas goes pale. Virgil tenses up.

“No fucking way,” Virgil says, at the same time as Thomas says, “Okay, let’s go.”

Virgil stares at Thomas incredulously. Deceit feels the same way, but he’s not about to question it now that things are finally doing his way. Virgil has no such qualms.

“What the fuck?” he snaps. “You’re seriously trusting him right now? His name is _Deceit_.”

Thomas shrugs sheepishly. “He hasn’t killed me yet.”

“That _cannot_ be where the bar is.”

“If you’re quite done,” Deceit says, and Virgil turns all the venom in his gaze back to him. “We really should be going.”

Thomas nods, takes a step forward. “Virgil, I know you don’t trust him, but trust _me_. I’ll be fine, okay?”

Virgil shakes his head. “Fine,” he snaps, “But I’m coming with you.”

“No,” Thomas says immediately, and the intensity startles both Deciet and Virgil. “I’ve already put you in danger, I’m not putting you in any more.”

Deceit scans the mall. They really do not have time for this.

“Please,” Virgil says. “You’d be dead five times over by now if it wasn’t for me, Sanders. Someone has to watch your back.”

“Wonderful, we’re all going,” Deceit says. “Can we just _get a move on_?”

Thomas and Virgil seem to have a conversation with just their eyes, and then Thomas nods. “Okay,” he says. “You, uh, you do have somewhere to go, right?”

Deceit rolls his eyes, already leading the way out of the mall. He hears Thomas and Virgil hurry to keep up with him. “No, I barged in here _without a plan_ ,” he answers. “Honestly, Thomas, what do you take me for?”

Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Thomas roll his eyes fondly, even as Virgil grumbles.

*

They don’t go far. Deceit takes them to an empty shop close to the mall, and ushers them upstairs, into what used to be an office room. Virgil hovers close to Thomas the whole time. Deceit leaves them there, and goes downstairs to check the perimeter.

There are a lot of places the Duke could enter – the main door, a back door, the large windows at the front of the shop which are boarded up but not boarded up _well_ , and the windows upstairs. It’ll have to do for now, though, as Deceit doesn’t want to risk taking Thomas and Virgil across town until he knows where Remus is.

So he gets to work making it as safe as he can; he blocks off the front door first, as that’s the most obvious point of entry, and then switches to the back. There’s not a lot he can actually _use_ – he was able to move some furniture still left in the front to block off that door, and he finds some wood and nails, presumably from boarding up the windows.

He’s only just set to work when someone moves behind him. He spins, already pulling out a knife and preparing to throw it when he realises who it is; Thomas, hands raised and a sheepish smile on his face.

“Sorry,” Thomas says. “Didn’t mean to sneak up on you.”

“Be glad I’m too well trained to have thrown that,” Deceit answers, and Thomas’ lips quirk up even more into a smile, as if Deceit isn’t talking about _killing him_.

“If I’m not back upstairs in ten minutes, Virgil’s going to come down,” Thomas says, grimacing. “He made me say that.”

“Okay.” Virgil’s suspicions is equal parts refreshing and grating, though he’s not sure what Virgil thinks it can possibly accomplish.

“What _happened_?” Thomas blurts, and it’s clear he’s wanted to say this for a while. “You show up at my house having a _panic attack_ , and then you just _disappear_. Where have you _been?_ ”

“A safe house,” Deceit answers.

“Yeah, that narrows it down,” Thomas says. “Janus-”

Deceit goes perfectly still when Thomas says that name, and Thomas trails off, looking uncertain.

“I just- are you okay?” Thomas finishes.

“Clearly,” Deceit says. He’s here, isn’t he?

“That’s not what I mean,” Thomas says. He places a hand on Deceit’s arm, and Deceit’s brain short circuits. “Look, if you- want to talk or something, I’m here, okay?”

Deceit stares at Thomas’ hand. His touch is gentle yet solid. “You won’t like what I have to talk about.”

Thomas shrugs. “I can deal with it.”

“I’m fine.”

Thomas doesn’t look convinced, but he doesn’t push it. Instead, he asks, “Who’s the Duke?”

“An assassin who works for the same people as me,” Deceit explains. “Since they aren’t happy with my progress, he’s been given the job.”

“And now he’s trying to kill me,” Thomas finishes, and Deceit nods.

Deceit gives Thomas a moment to process this before continuing, “The Duke is one of the best. Dealing with him will be difficult.”

“You said you work together. Is he your friend?”

An absurd thought. “I don’t have friends.”

“Except for me,” Thomas says.

That= Deceit doesn’t know what to say to that. It’s ridiculous – he and Thomas can’t be _friends_ , even if Thomas is still touching him. He’s tried to kill Thomas multiple times, and Thomas kidnapped him (technically), and now Thomas is worried about Deceit’s mental state, and Deceit is risking his life to protect Thomas.

Deceit is about to _explain_ all of this, when upstairs Virgil cries out, “Thomas!”

The panic in Virgil’s voice is clear, and the shout Is cut off at the end. Thomas takes off running first, but Deceit quickly overtakes him, so he is the first one to enter the room.

Virgil is still alive. The Duke stands behind him, one arm wrapped around Virgil’s neck, keeping him still. The other hand holds that ridiculous morning star that he likes so much. Somehow, Virgil manages to look both scared and pissed off all at once.

“Hi, Deede,” Remus says cheerfully. “Didn’t expect you to be such a sore loser. I got this job fair and square, you know.”

Deceit can tell the minute Thomas catches up, because Virgil’s eyes fly to someone in the doorway, and Thomas himself lets out a strangled noise. Deceit takes a smooth step back, so he’s standing next to Thomas.

“Funny,” Deceit says. “I didn’t expect you to get the wrong person.” He wraps his fingers around Thomas’ arm, and pulls him towards himself. Thomas stumbles as he moves, clearly not expecting Deceit to betray him.

Deceit pulls Thomas in front of him, and wraps one arm around Thomas’ chest. With their bodies pressed so close together, Deceit can feel Thomas’ breath speed up. Across the room, Virgil snarls and struggles, only to go still when Remus tightens his grip. Remus tilts his head, looking rather like a dog that just wandered in from the street.

“Why haven’t you killed him yet?” Remus asks, and Thomas’ breath stutters.

Deceit shrugs, watching for any sign of movement. “I’m having fun.”

“You fucking _bastard_ ,” Virgil snarls, kicking at Remus. Remus just holds onto him and whoops with laughter.

“Careful,” Remus says. “There’ll be time for you, too.”

Remus might very well kill Virgil here and now – the only reason he hasn’t is probably so he doesn’t get distracted.

“Why wait?” Deceit asks. “Consider him the consolation prize.”

Remus’ grin turns feral, which means he recognises the challenge. That ends up being the only warning Deceit gets before Remus in launching himself across the room, Virgil thrown to the side like a discarded doll.

Deceit flings himself and Thomas to the floor, dodging the swing of Remus’ mace. He leaves Thomas there and moves to meet Remus. He’s fast enough to grab Remus’ arm and twist it, forcing Remus to drop the mace.

Remus grabs Deceit’s wrist where he’s still holding Remus’ hand, and tries to flip him to the ground. Deceit is able to break free of the hold, and he aims a kick at Remus’ legs. It makes Remus stumble, and Deceit uses _that_ to knock Remus to the ground, and pin him in place.

He can’t see Thomas or Virgil. He hopes this means that they’re smart enough to _get the hell out of here_ while they still have a chance-

The knife slides into Deceit’s abdomen, and the surprise is enough for Remus to be able to throw him off. Deceit gasps in pain, tries to pull himself upright, but Remus is already there, pushing him back down again.

“Eh, don’t feel too bad,” Remus says, patting Deceit on the cheek. “Better luck next time, right?”

“Remus, don’t,” Deceit begs, but Remus ignores him and picks up the morning star.

“C’mon, I won _unfair_ and square,” Remus says.

Deceit is able to push himself to his feet, though he knows fighting Remus won’t do much good. Thomas and Virgil are standing in the doorway, which means he hasn’t even managed to give them a _head start_.

He lunges forward, grabs Remus by the arm, desperately trying to stop him, but Remus shakes Deceit off with a snarl. Deceit is already off-balance from the wound, and now Remus throws him to the ground. The air is forced out of his lungs, and he can only stare up at Remus, standing over him.

“ _Please_ ,” Deceit is able to gasp out.

Remus tilts his head. “It’s only a job,” he says, a bit reproachful.

Deceit shakes his head. He wants to tell Remus it’s not, but he _can’t_ , and someone is running across the room towards them.

“Stop,” Thomas cries, and Remus swivels to look at him. “Look, let him and Virgil go, and- and you can kill me. I won’t try to fight you.”

Remus glances between Thomas and Deceit, and then shrugs. “Kind of a weird thing to say, but I’ll take it.”

“No,” Deceit snarls. He tries to push himself upright, but is unable to.

“Deceit, don’t,” Thomas says. “It’s okay. You did everything you could.”

“Hang on,” Remus says, lowering his mace. “He knows you _name_?”

“Well,” Thomas says shakily, “It’d be kind of weird if I kept calling him Mr Assassin.”

“Okay,” Remus says. “Can one of you tell me what in the _ever loving fuck_ is going on?”

Deceit opens his mouth to explain, but before he can Virgil is at his side, one hand gingerly touching near the wound on Deceit’s abdomen.

“What the _fuck_ , you just got stabbed,” Virgil hisses, which Deceit thinks should be fairly obvious by this point.

Virgil shrugs out of his hoodie and presses it against the wound, stemming the bleeding. Thomas crouches down on Deceit’s other side.

“Is he going to be okay?” Thomas asks.

“How the fuck should I know?” Virgil snaps. “I’m not a doctor.”

“I’ll be fine,” Deceit says. “I just need to close it.”

“What if it hit something important?” Virgil asks.

“Oh, _please_ ,” Remus says. “I’m not an amateur.”

Virgil and Thomas both startle at the reminder that Remus is here. Deceit sighs.

“If you find me something to stitch this with, I’ll tell you everything,” he says to Remus.

Remus hurries out of the room, and Deceit stumbles to his feet.

“What are you doing?” Thomas asks.

Deceit staggers to a chair, pushed against the side of the wall, and sits down in it. Virgil hurries over to press the hoodie against the wound again.

“It’ll be easier to stitch it like this,” Deceit says.

“Stitch it, right.” Thomas sounds faint. “Because that’s what we’re doing.”

“It’s what _I’m_ doing,” Deceit corrects, waving Virgil away. “I don’t trust you with a needle.”

Virgil is reluctant to let go of the hoodie, until Deceit begins to peel his shirt off. He drops his shirt to the floor, next to Virgil’s blood soaked hoodie – he’ll have to help Virgil get the stains out of it later. When he looks up again, Thomas and Virgil are staring at him in horror.

“What happened to you?” Thomas asks.

Deceit glances down at his chest, and then shrugs. Most of the wounds he’s received are from accidents, or training, or times when the target decided to fight back. Those are the smaller scars, though, and Deceit has a feeling Thomas and Virgil are looking at the big ones. The ones that only happen when someone knows what they’re doing and wants to make it _hurt_.

“Business,” Deceit says.

“That’s a shit explanation,” Virgil points out.

“DeeDee got caught a few years back,” Remus says from the doorway, where he is now standing. He’s found a needle and thread somewhere – most likely something he brought with him.

“And they did _that_ to you?” Thomas asks, choked.

Deceit glances at Remus, who shrugs, looking as confused as Deceit feels. “It was a long time ago.”

That doesn’t seem to make Thomas or Virgil feel any better, so Deceit takes the needle and thread from Remus and busies himself with stitching his wound. Thomas makes a strange, choked noise, but Deceit chooses to ignore it.

Remus is able to keep quiet until Deceit is almost done, when he blurts out, “Okay, seriously, what the fuck? You guys know he wants to kill you, right?”

It’s a fair point. Deceit looks up at Thomas and Virgil to see what they have to say to it.

“We got that after the first couple of assassination attempts,” Virgil mutters.

“But he hasn’t,” Thomas says. “And I don’t think he really wants to.”

“I don’t,” Deceit agrees. He finishes the last couple of stitches and ties it off.

“What, did you suck his dick or something? Cause if so, you must have been _really_ good.”

Thomas turns bright red at that. Deceit avoids making eye contact with him.

“It’s not like that,” Deceit says quickly. “It’s-” Deceit hesitates, uncertain what it _is_ like. “He’s my friend,” he finishes, though that doesn’t quite fit.

Remus pulls a face. “Gross.”

“This doesn’t change anything, does it?” Thomas asks. “I mean, even if you decide not to kill me, they’re just going to keep sending more people, right?”

“Then we go into hiding or something,” Virgil says, glancing at Deceit desperately.

“It would be difficult,” Deceit says slowly, “But not impossible.”

“And what happens to you two?” Thomas snaps, gesturing at Remus. Deceit doesn’t answer. “Yeah, that’s what I thought. Maybe we should just- get on with it.”

“Absolutely not,” Deceit snarls.

“You just got _stabbed_. He could have killed you! He could have killed Virgil! I’m not- I can’t just let you guys get hurt for me.”

“Too bad,” Virgil hisses. “Because we’re not leaving.”

“Um,” Remus says, “Do I get to make a suggestion?”

“No,” everyone snaps.

“Alright, fine. I mean, I was _gonna_ suggest we stop the contract, but sure, don’t listen to me.”

Wait.

“Stop the contract?” Virgil echoes. “As in- make it so there isn’t a price on Thomas’ head anymore?”

“The Agency doesn’t just _stop_ contracts,” Deceit points out.

“ _Unless_ the client cancels it,” Remus corrects. “Honestly, Dee, were you even paying attention to how things work?”

“Hey, that- that actually sounds like an idea,” Thomas says.

“Barely,” Deceit says. “You’re suggesting that we find the client – something which is kept secret – and then somehow _persuade_ them into not having Thomas killed, all without the agency finding out what we’re doing and killing us.”

“Okay, well, when you put it like _that_ ,” Remus mutters.

“Do we have any better ideas, though?” Thomas asks. “Because, no offence, but the idea of spending the rest of my life on the run isn’t very appealing.”

And the thing is, Deceit _doesn’t_ have any better ideas. In fact, he’s pretty sure he could figure out who the client is, though the Dragon would almost certainly find out about it.

“Actually, Remus might be on to something,” Deceit says.

“You _just_ listed all the reasons why it’s a terrible idea,” Virgil complained.

“Well, yes,” Deceit says. “There’s no way of getting to the client without the Dragon finding out. But we’re not going after the client.”

“Then who are we going after?” Thomas asks.

Deceit smiles. There’s a rush of energy through his body, the same as he gets before a particularly difficult mission. “We’re going after the Dragon.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: More murder attempts, stabbing, references to child abduction and abuse, references to torture, and a character who, while not actually suicidal, is prepared to sacrifice his life.

**Author's Note:**

> Warnings: Attempted murder, a couple of references to implied child abuse, a character deliberately attempting to trigger someones allergy (as a murder attempt), reference to torture. 
> 
> Find me on tumblr: Sparrow-flies-south.tumblr.com


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